


Take Me Home

by squishyturtlefuckfics



Series: Hypnosis/Mind Control [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Attraction, Brainwashing, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Foot Raphael (TMNT), Gay, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, M/M, Mind Control, Past Brainwashing, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyturtlefuckfics/pseuds/squishyturtlefuckfics
Summary: Request from tumblr.Donatello tries, and fails, to get through to a brainwashed Raphael.





	Take Me Home

 

* * *

 

"Leave him with me."  
  
There's a stunned silence in the room, accentuated by both Leonardo and Michelangelo's confused expressions, but Donnie ignores them.  
  
"It'll be fine," he notes, cutting them off before either can speak, his voice sharp and irritable. "He's sedated. Besides," he adds, again cutting Leo off before he can argue, "there are no weapons in here. He's got nothing to attack me with."  
  
He sees Leo's mouth twitch once, twice, before a heavy sigh falls from his brother's mouth.  
  
"Be careful." Leo takes Mikey's arm and tugs, leading him out of the room. "Let's go, Mikey. Leave Raph to Donnie."  
  
Mikey shoots him a concerned glance, and Donnie watches them leave the lab, then hurries to lock the door behind them. Not only to stop them from interrupting him, but to prevent Raphael from trying to make a run for it. There was the back door, leading out into their shared little garage, but that was already locked tight, and Donnie was the only one that knew how to open it right now.  
  
He couldn't be too careful.  
  
He returns to the heart of his lab, now clear of clutter. He'd had to move things to make sure he had enough room, and to keep Raphael away from anything he could potentially use as a weapon.   
  
Donnie approaches his brother. Raphael is tied to a chair, body limp, though still moving, and staring intently at him, albeit through a haze of drugs. He's not sure how long that would last for, but he always had more sedatives he could use.

He was prepared for this, and with Splinter absent right now, he was the best suited to try and fix his brother.  
  
Taking a deep breath through his nose, Donnie begins.  
  
"Raphael."  
  
Raph doesn't respond, but his gaze follows Donnie as he pulls up a chair to sit opposite him. It's not surprising, considering the strength of the sedative. Raphael had been fierce when they’d found him. They needed to take him down before he could really cause any damage.

Had he used too much? It didn't matter right now. He had to continue.  
  
"Raph," Donnie tries again, leaning forward on his seat. "Can you hear me?"  
  
Raph mumbles something under his breath. He'll take that as a yes.  
  
"What's my name?"  
  
No response.  
  
Donnie clasps his hands together, a pensive look on his face. This was worrying.   
  
"I'm Donatello," he tries, keeping his gaze fixed on Raphael's face, searching his dull, lifeless green eyes for any sign of recollection. He had to try and establish something with him. Something that could get him to trust him. "Do you know who I am?"  
  
There's a pause. Raphael looks at him blankly.  
  
This wasn't working.  
  
Donnie sighs, pinching the bridge of his beak. He'd have to move him, get him up on the bench and run some tests.  
  
Standing from his chair, Donnie pads over to his brother. He kneels, getting back down to eye level with him. Raph makes no movement. His gaze remains stony and blank.  
  
The clean, simple look of his brother is gone. Raphael is furnished head to toe in Foot Clan gear. A red scarf circles his neck, his shoulders are adorned with rusty iron pauldrons, and his wrappings, gear and mask are all a dark, deep black.  His right arm is bruised, the blood red Foot Clan insignia seared into his skin, most likely a permanent scar. Specks of crimson red coat his skin and clothes, but Donatello chooses to ignore them.

  
"Raph," he says softly, trying to hide the croak in his voice. He watches his brother carefully. "I'm going to untie you now, okay? Can you stay calm for me?"  
  
Raph looks at him, and to Donatello’s surprise he gives a small nod.

  
That was progress, and it was good enough for him.  
  
Worrying his lip, Donatello leans in and reaches behind his brother, untying his hands and unfastening the straps around his arms. They drop free, limp to the side. Raphael fidgets at the freedom, and Donnie tenses for just a moment, heart catching. He waits a few seconds, just in case Raph lashes out at him, before Donnie moves to his legs, untying them first as before, and then loosening them off from the chair itself.  
  
Donnie steps back, returning his attention to his brother’s face. He still looks blank, still looks dazed and lost.  
  
Raph looks at him.  
  
And he smirks.  
  
Donatello can't react fast enough. As if possessed, Raph jolts up and grabs him, slamming him up against the far wall. Donnie opens his mouth to scream, but Raph smothers his beak with a hand, snuffing out the noise underneath his skin.

  
"Don't move."  
  
Donnie’s blood runs ice cold.  
  
Raph's voice is dripping with venom. It’s like a dagger to his spine.

How long had he been faking it?

Eyes wide, Donatello struggles to control his breathing. He has to stay calm. has to think of a way out. Has to get help from his brothers. Raphael had no weapons right now. There was no way he could hurt him with that. He’d be easy to overpower with the three of them.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, Raph raises his other arm, slamming his hand into Donnie's throat just as he starts to squirm. Agony races through him as his brother's hand near enough crushes his windpipe, but his muffled screams are lost to the void.  
  
"Shut the fuck up," Raph threatens, eyes narrowing. They’re no longer that dull green anymore. Raph’s eyes are a pure, icy white. "Or I'll break you."  
  
He pushes his hand up again to accentuate this, sending a sharp pain through Donnie's throat. Donatello chokes, his throat on fire and mind racing. Raph tightens his grip, waiting a good few seconds before finally easing it off again, and Donnie slumps forward as he’s released, his chest heaving as he sucks in air.  
  
He doesn’t dare move.  
  
Seemingly satisfied with that, Raph wrenches both of his arms upward and pins them high above his head, smashing them into the pipe running along the wall. With a tight squeeze, Raphael snatches the bindings from Donnie’s hands and fastens them around his wrists, chaining them to the pipe.

  
He could kick him. Donnie thinks. It's an option. It might daze him, but what then? His room was clear of hazards. He had no gear on him he could reach. He'd have no follow-up. Nothing.   
  
"Raph," he begins, voice hoarse and quiet, hoping to appeal to his brother’s mind, but Raph immediately smothers his beak again, shoving his head backwards. There's a sickening crack as his skull crashes into the wall, and his vision swims in and out of focus. A dull ache radiates through his head.

He's going to die here.  
  
Raph's going to kill him.   
  
Silence blankets the room, and Raph remains still: as if observing him, considering him. His white eyes bore into Donnie's own.

He leans in, presses his shell to Donnie’s own. The metallic smell of blood on his hand makes his stomach twist.

Raph grins.  
  
And then his other hand slips down.  


The world stops. Donnie jolts as Raph grazes over his slit. His thumb is rough: the scales hard and tough and calloused. His skin tingles, and Donnie's eyes widen as Raph repeats the motion once, twice, thrice…

"Donnie," he says in a low, quiet rumble. He leans in further, and Donnie shudders as Raph presses his beak to his neck and inhales. “Donnie, Donnie, Donnie…”

Donnie’s muscles stiffen.

"Mmph?" He recoils as Raph drags his tongue over the skin. It’s wet and rough, hot and slimy, and it makes his skin crawl. Heat pools to his loins. His stomach flutters. Oh god, what the fuck. What the fuck.

"Did you think I didn't notice it, Donnie?" Raph says eventually. He nips at Don's neck, puffing hot air against the reddened mark as he pulls back, and Donnie squirms in response. "I've seen the way you look at us.”

There’s a pause as Raph nips him again, coaxing a muffled, shuddering whimper from Donnie for his efforts.

"The way you look at me." He pulls back for a moment, smiling. It chills Donnie’s core. It looks warm, but there's a definite malice to it as well. An evil that Raph wasn't afraid to show.

He grinds his fingers into Donnie’s slit.

“The way you watch me during training.” Fingers dragging up, pressing into the sensitive flesh. Donnie snaps his hips away, but Raphael’s hand always follows. HIs touches grow rougher, hungrier, more insistent. “Did you think I never noticed the camera in my room?”

He lets out a low rumble, pressing his nose back to Don's neck. His face pales. His stomach twists, and he’s quaking as Raphael’s teeth sink into his flesh.

He can't stop his body.

His slit flares, and his cock swells at it hits Raphael's hand. His brother swipes it up, quickly moving to stroke and knead at the steadily swelling length. Don's breath catches in his throat, nostrils flaring against Raphael's hand.

Raph churrs into his skin, licking and nipping and sniffing wherever he pleases. His tongue is like electric on his skin, and Don can't stop the muffled and broken whine that tears out of his throat as his brother finds his pulse point.

"That good?" Raph purrs again, squeezing his shaft, and a muffled, quivering moan falls from Don’s mouth as Raph slides his fingers up the aching length. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

The hand leaves his mouth, but not before his brother stiffens. His grip on his cock tightens for a moment, like a warning. No noise. No struggling.

Donatello is once again left gasping for air as Raphael moves away, this time to rummage around in his belt pouch. Don watches his brother through alarmed, yet foggy eyes, a lump rising in his throat. Why didn’t he strip him of all his gear? How could he be so stupid?

There's a tapping of claws to glass as Raph continues to scrounge around. He's not looking, still has his beak presses to Don's neck, but he clearly knows what he's searching for.

A few more seconds pass until his hand finally withdraws from his pouch, and Don's heart stops when he catches sight of what it is.

Clasped between two fingers sits a large, hideous looking worm.

Donnie’s face pales.

It's a brain worm. Raph had a brain worm with him.

Raph still doesn't pull away, but Donnie can feel his mouth stretch into a grin as he moves his hand closer. The worm wriggles in his grasp, and Donnie freezes as he feels it squirm against the side of his head.

_No. No, no, no._

Raph holds it still, not letting it move, and finally pulls back.

"I can give you more, Donnie."

No. No this could not be happening. Donnie swallows, eyes darting around the room with renewed vigour. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be an opening. An escape. A weakness. A crack.

A defeated whine escapes his throat when Raph presses his beak back into his neck.

_Nothing._

Again he whines, biting his lip to stop himself from being too loud. His head is a mess: a haze of lust and need and panic. He’s dizzy: can’t get his thoughts straight. He has to get away, can’t let Raph use that worm but—

Raph squeezes his cock and— fuck it feels so good.

Clearly, Raph can sense his dilemma. He strokes faster, though keeps his pace relatively calm, as if he’s intent on just teasing him: drawing it out for as long as possible. Donnie shudders all the same. His body aches for his touch. For more of it. It's all he'd dreamed about.

"I can give you what you want," Raph coos, "I can make you feel good, Donnie. Better."

Donnie shudders, his tongue falling from his mouth. His eyes are hooded, vision blurry and shaky. What was happening to him?

“N-No… No, Raph…”

The worm wriggles closer, pressing into his ear.

"Just give into it, Donnie."

Closer still. It's nibbling at his mask. Donnie squirms, his skin crawling.

"Just accept it. It's easier. Better."

Raph sucks at his skin lewdly, rolls his tongue over his neck, all the while continuing to grope his cock. Donnie's breath hitches, his vision shaking. Fuck this felt so good. Why did it feel so good?  
  
“Raph…” His knees wobble, and Donnie slumps slightly against the wall, voice strained and whiny. His arms are shaking, fingers quivering, cheeks flushed. Raph purrs at this, nipping him once again. “No. N-No please. You have to—” A whine. Donnie’s mind swerves. His cock aches. “—stop!”   
  
"Sssh, Donnie." His voice is sultry, like smooth velvet to Donnie's ears. "Let it happen. That's it.” Stroking harder, faster. Raph churrs at him as he squirms. “You want to give in. Want to be taken by me.”

  
He does. He'd spent so many nights imagining this, imagining his brothers cornering him like this. So many sleepless nights he'd spent rutting into his bed, whining his brothers' name, his cock shamefully hard.

But not like this. Not with those blank, lost eyes.

The worm writhes against his face.

Never like… like this.  
  
Raphael churrs, and the vibrations echo right through his body. Donnie finds himself churring back despite himself, breathless and needy. His cock spasms in Raph's hand, coating his fingers in sticky pre.   
  
"Give in, Donnie.”  
  
He... He can’t. He can’t.

He shakes his head weakly, yanking at the chains binding his arms, babbling nothing but nonsense at his brother. His eyes are wide and pleading, yet stormy and torn.

“P-Please—” he tries once last time, aching to keep his voice under his control. Raph had to listen to him. Raph had to listen to him. “Stop.”

Raphael doesn’t listen.  
  
He grins. "Just let it happen."   
  
Raph jerks his hand, and Donatello gasps as the worm burrows into his ear. His knees go weak. His heart races.  
  
Raph smashes their beaks together before he can scream.  
  
His head is on fire. Donnie's eyes roll backwards, his limbs twitching and jerking desperately as the discomfort rocks through him. It's excruciating. The pain is agonising.  
  
He's going to die.  
  
He's going to die.  
  
He flails his head back and forth, but Raph holds him still. He can feel it digging in. Settling in his skull, pushing at his brain, drilling into his mind. His pulse races. His nostrils flare. He wants to scream.

Eventually it ends. Donatello slumps down the wall, saliva drooling from his lips as Raph breaks the kiss. His head is numb. A dull, aching throb pounds through it.

  
He feels sick.  
  
"There we go," Raph says softly, and Donnie murmurs something inaudible as his brother takes hold of his face, cupping his cheeks between both hands. Raph looks at him warmly, then presses his forehead to his own.  
  
"You wanna come home with me, Donnie?"   
  
Donnie struggles for thought for a moment, looking at his brother blankly. His eyes are glassy, unfocused, and his skin is pale. His limbs won't stop shaking. Raph’s voice enraptures him.

He… He wanted to go _home_.  
  
He nods slowly.  
  
Raph smirks, untying his shackles and helping him to his feet. Donnie is unstable as he's guided toward the back wall, but Raph supports him. Donnie allows it. He feels so lost. So sick. So numb. Raphael was the only warmth he had.  
  
"Undo the lock," Raph orders, and Donnie does it without hesitation. A few keystrokes on the electronic pad snaps the lock open, and Raph drags him through the door and out of the lair's back entrance.

He passes out on the way, just as they hit the cold air of the city, but he’s calm before it happens, eyes that same icy white as his brother’s.

He was going home.


End file.
